


Rock-A-Doo, Baby Blue

by LittleJowo



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Child Abuse, Homophobia, Human AU, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Red Action, M/M, Priest AU??, Slurs, Some Humor, Sort of a high school AU, Stoner Drupe, Trans Radicles, Transphobia, Violence, adopted k.o., slowburn, some language, trans author, transmasc author, transmasc radicles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleJowo/pseuds/LittleJowo
Summary: Lakewood High is run by the Boxman kids, Shannon, Darrell, and Raymond. They run more than just the school, though; they practically own the whole town, what with their father being the local priest. Their reckless and rebellious behavior likely has something to do with that as well.However, nobody knows what happens when they get home, and they definitely don't know what Father Boxman is like behind closed doors. And, when Raymond accidentally lets out a very personal secret, things only get so much worse for him.Raymond is tired of being bullied, as well as being the bully. He wants a normal life, a normal family, a way to start over. He'd do anything to get something resembling his old life back.As time passes, he and Radicles become reluctant friends, bonding over their roles as outcasts in a town where people like them aren't made to feel very welcome.Maybe, together, they can change the way Lakewood in run.





	1. Welcome to the Boxman Family!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to Rock-A-Doo, Baby Blue! I've had this AU in my head for a while, and just had to write it out!
> 
> Updates will be slow, as I am busy with college, and over the summer, I will be interning as an animator and character designer for a local TV station. I also have another longfic, which I haven't updated since November. I apologize for any and all slow updates!
> 
> Please keep in mind that I DO NOT condone anything negative portrayed in this story. If you see any of this happening in real life, please seek help for whoever needs it.
> 
> I am a trans person myself, and I understand that there are a lot of stories where trans people are hurt. I apologize in advance for any upsetting content within this story (although I PROMISE it ends well). I may write some stories within this AU where things are all happy and good. But that is not this story.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Brief transphobia, child abuse, emotional manipulation
> 
> Now, enjoy!

Darrell snickered as he stood back to admire his work. In neon red spray-paint was a large sideways cross, which stretched all the way along the side of the arts building of Lakewood High. The proportions were odd, due to the sheer length of the art, but he was proud of himself nonetheless. He elbowed his sister, Shannon, almost messing her up as she finished vandalizing the area under the intersecting lines of the cross. 

Shannon cackled loudly when she was done, her overalls coated in her own paint, a bright orange that contrasted with her fuchsia hair. She had taken to tagging the building with her signature, a buzz saw with an S-shaped handle. It was crude and rough, but recognizable despite that. 

Their younger brother, Raymond, simply watched his siblings from the side, an unlit cigarette placed between his lips. He didn't want to get paint on his new jacket, so he just waited for them to finish. He occasionally peeked around the corner, making sure no teachers—or tattling students—saw what was going on. He knew they would be found out eventually, they always were, but it was better if that didn't happen until later. After all, if it could wait until the end of the school day, they could all hang out during detention that weekend. It was sure to be a fun time. Especially if it meant they didn't have to go to church on Sunday. 

Soon after they cleaned up a bit in the bathrooms of the art building, the bell that signaled the start of the first class sounded. The Boxman trio took their time in arriving, loitering in the hall for a minute or two before going their separate ways. Shannon went to her American History class, Darrell to English Literature, and Raymond to Trigonometry. 

Raymond didn't even acknowledge the teacher when he walked in. Ms. Kincaid reprimanded him with a disappointed huff for being late, but the teen was hardly listening. 

"You know, it really disrupts the class when you walk in  _after_ the bell," Ms. Kincaid said, hands on her hips, "And you're lucky I don't tell the school. You'd be charged with truancy!" She didn't seem mad, per se, but she was clearly frustrated. She almost seemed motherly in her worried scolding. She wanted what was best for all of her students. Even the tardy trouble-making ones. 

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you, Carol." Raymond leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up onto his desk as he reached into his bag for his textbook. Some students couldn't help but laugh, bewildered that he always got away with things like this. Raymond knew it was because despite his bad attitude, he had some of the top grades out of all the Juniors. His behavior didn't matter, so long as he still got the work done. 

Ms. Kincaid shook her head but went back to discussing the latest chapter. The class itself was rather boring, but the charismatic teacher always found a way to keep everyone engaged. Even though he pretended not to, Raymond paid rapt attention to the lesson, hanging on her every word. 

The rest of the school day went by without incident. At least, not until the Boxman teens were called in at the end of their last period. Mr. Garcia's voice boomed over the intercom: " **BOXM** **AN** **S! IN MY OFFICE, NOW!** " Many students "ooh'ed" as they were sent out of their respective classrooms. 

The trio made their way to Gar's office, in no rush to see the obnoxiously loud principal. They knew what they were going in for, and although it was expected, it was never a fun experience to step into that office. All three teenagers mentally prepared for the screaming match that was about to go down, and perhaps an hour-long speech about how he expected more out of them. But it would be worth it. It almost always was. 

Shannon was the first to walk in, the bravest of the trio. She strode through the door with confidence. She knew what she was getting into when she spray-painted that wall, and she was going to face the consequences with her chin held high and her stance strong. Her brothers followed after her, one with his head down, the other with a false look of nonchalance. 

They got exactly what they expected, plus the detention Raymond had anticipated. Shannon complained loudly, only to stop abruptly at the thundering slap of Mr. Gar's hand on the top of his desk. 

" **I will not hear one more word out of any of you! You are to spend Saturday AND** **Sunday in detention! Starting at** **nine** **o'clock** **sharp! You trouble-makers got** **that?"** Shannon looked about to protest, but was interrupted by her brother. 

"We got it, teach," Darrell said with a salute. 

"Good. Now,  **GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!** " 

The siblings wasted no time in scurrying out, barreling over each other in their haste. They were glad that they at least got to have the rest of the day to themselves. Perhaps it was a good day for a Friday Pizza Day after all. They all laughed breathlessly as they ran out of the school. 

Still chuckling, Raymond pulled out his phone, ordering the usual half-and-half, with pineapple on Darrell's side. Shannon and himself always shared the cheese and pepperoni side. The Papa John's in their area knew them well enough to not ask where to deliver it to. After all, they did this almost every Friday. 

Raymond requested to have the pizza delivered in about two hours. That way, they could have some fun before it arrived, and they could scrape up the needed cash. The three siblings knew exactly where to get it, and they could cause some trouble while they were at it, too. 

The Boxman kids sauntered their way over to the convenience store down the street from the school. Nobody paid them any mind; they must have known that nothing good would come of getting in their way. The trio was known for their ability of taking any meddlers down a few pegs. Shannon would usually rough them up a bit, while Darrell took a memento or two during the skirmish. Raymond rarely got involved in such antics, but his large build and dark clothing made him intimidating enough to ward off most goody-two-shoes. Not that he hasn't left a few bruises of his own. Aside from that, their father was in good standing with the town, being the local priest and all; police wouldn't dare to act against his beloved children. It'd be like jailing the angels of God Himself, in the eyes of Lakewood's citizens.

Therefore, nobody gave them any trouble, as expected. Raymond could tell this was going to be a breeze. 

Upon arriving at the plaza, the three siblings giggled to each other, excited for what was to come. They always were. The shopping center was their usual hangout after school. The prices were cheap—not that they paid for most of what they got—and the employees were fun to mess with. 

Their favorite store to wreak havoc was one specific bodega, run by Eugene Garcia, the younger brother of the school principal (although Raymond was honestly convinced they were the same person). He only had three employees, and they were all as lame as lame got. 

One of them was a young woman named Enid. She used to attend their high school, but she had graduated the previous year. She had been a bit of a nerd, always reading comics and wearing an obnoxious set of braces, but now she has taken on a more gothic persona. She pretended to be really chill, but it wasn't too hard to get a reaction out of her, if you knew which buttons to press. 

Then there was her younger brother, Kaio. He was only a child, but since he was homeschooled at the dojo down the street, and was not very busy, he liked to spend most of his free time helping his sister at work. He was adopted around five or six years ago, but he still kept in close contact with his birth mother, Ms. Kincaid. She was still a large part of his life, but could not financially support him until very recently. The Boxmans rarely picked on him anymore after they learned that he was adopted, as they themselves were, too, but if he got in their way, they weren't opposed to exploiting his insecurities. 

Last but not least was Radicles. He was the easiest to mess with, and the most fun. He was notorious around the school for the drastic change in his appearance before his Freshman year. He used to be scrawny and pimply, and his hair was almost as long as his lanky legs. But, over the summer break before his first year of high school, he had bulked up quite a bit. His arms were nearly as thick as Raymond's own torso (although Raymond was pleased that he still towered over the other). Despite his current physique, though, it was easy to remind him of how he used to be. Shannon and Darrell were relentless when it came to teasing him. 

As of now, it seemed like only Enid and Kaio were working; Rad must still be at the school. It was just as well, though. That just meant that there would be one less pair of eyes keeping an eye on them. It was three against two. 

The bell  _dinged_ when they walked in, signaling their arrival to the workers. Kaio waved to them enthusiastically from where he was mopping. Raymond always thought the kid was a bit too friendly with them, having been a victim of their bullying for half his life, but Raymond waved back anyway. With only two fingers, though. He had to show that he was cooler when it came to everything, and that included greetings. 

Enid didn't even look up from her phone. The only indication that she even knew they were there was a quick warning: "You'd better not be here to steal more merch. I'll kick your butts if you do." 

"You? Kick  _our_ butts?" Shannon laughed as she pretended to inspect a small bag of gummy bears. "With all these cameras? Even if you could manage it, you'd get fired for laying a hand on your most loyal customers!" 

"Customers? Right," Enid rolled her eyes, finally giving the siblings her full attention. "You have to actually give me money in order to be considered a customer." 

Shannon gasped in mock offense, and Darrell snagged a few candy bars from where he stood behind Raymond's bulky body, out of Enid's view, stuffing his hoodie pocket almost full. 

"Whatever," Shannon waved her off, "I'll pay for  _these,_ though, so just tell me how much I owe already." She headed over to the counter, slamming two bags of gummy worms and a pack of gum onto it. 

With a sigh, Enid scanned the items. She gave the price of eighteen technos, and Shannon forked over the cash. 

"Would you like me to bag these items or what?" 

"That would be great, actually," Shannon sneered as Enid reached for a small plastic bag. 

Darrell snuck behind Enid, who foolishly left the register open. Darrell took around fifty technos, stuffing them into his beanie just in time for the bodega employee to turn around with an "A-ha!" 

"What, I didn't even do anything!" Darrell whined, throwing his hands up into the air rather dramatically. Enid clearly didn't believe him, so she gave him a quick pat-down (not without loud complaints from Darrell, who demanded to see her manager, which went ignored). She almost immediately found the stolen candy bars, waving them in his face with a smirk. 

Raymond snickered quietly to himself as his older brother acted as if he were really bummed out. He always found it hilarious when she fell for that trick. Darrell was a master at shoplifting; all he had to do was steal two things, and then get caught with whatever cost less. It was a miracle that Enid hadn't caught onto that trick yet, especially with all the inventory the store loses. 

With the candy—and the cash—in tow, the Boxmans practically skipped out the door, just in time to see Rad's van pulling into the parking lot. Shannon and Darrell exchanged evil, toothy grins, while Raymond feigned indifference. He hated the meat-headed dork as much as they did, really, but he knew that his siblings were going to say things that were particularly hurtful, even for them. It never failed to make him slightly queasy. He preferred to stand off to the side, or to do something else entirely. 

Rad pulled his van as close to the bodega entrance as he could. Raymond stayed where he was, leaning against the building and placing an unlit cigarette between his lips as he watched his older siblings stalk towards the vehicle. 

The third bodega employee slammed his door shut as he exited the van in a rush. He barely had time to lock it up before he was shoved into the side of it by Shannon. 

"Come on, you guys. I have work to do." Rad tried to shoulder past her, but Darrell helped her in keeping him where he was. 

"Hey sis," he said, "It almost looks like this weird brutish thing is trying to tell us something!" 

"I dunno, brother. Sounds like a bunch of noise to me." 

"Really?" Rad asked, exasperated, "The whole 'speechless creature' thing? You haven't done that since middle school. Couldn't think of any new insults?" 

He got his curly hair pulled for that, Shannon sneering in his face. 

"Don't go thinking that just because you're big doesn't mean you're tough." Shannon gave Rad's hair another tug as she stared him down, making him wince and look away. "But you know that by now, right?" 

Radicles didn't reply, just trying to get this over with. After years of being tormented, he'd learned that things tended to go faster if he was silent. Sometimes the added beating was worth the quip, though. 

Darrell snickered as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a couple small rocks. Raymond sighed; he almost felt sorry for Rad. He wasn't going to like what was coming to him. 

"You know what happens to freaks like you, right?" The oldest brother asked. 

Seeing the rocks, Rad tried once again to push the sibling duo away, only to once again be shoved back. Darrell took that as an opening and punched him in the face, and almost immediately it started to swell. 

Shannon pulled out her phone, taking a quick picture of Radicles' quickly bruising cheek. She laughed out loud as she looked at the image, saying, "They get stoned! And  _not_ in the fun way." 

After that, they let him go. Darrell, however, threw the rocks as he backed away, mostly hitting the van. Rad just stood there as this went on, not wanting to aggravate them further. Raymond clicked his tongue; with the body he had, Rad could easily overpower any Boxman, excluding Raymond himself. He supposed that almost ten years of torment made you think there was nothing that could be done. Raymond almost wished Rad  _would_ do something about it. Maybe then he wouldn't have to witness this pathetic display all the time. 

"Hey!" Enid and Kaio came running out of the store, both wielding mops as weapons. The Boxman children scattered, not quite willing to take on a pair of martial artists. It was surprising they hadn't noticed anything before then. 

" _Au revoir,_ Plaza Losers!" Raymond called back with a wink, his siblings cackling madly. Soon enough they were out of sight, supposedly headed back home. 

Enid sighed, pulling Rad inside the store, Kaio holding his hand. 

"Come on, you big lug. Let's get you fixed up." 

* * *

The Boxmans got home just as the pizza arrived, and Darrell handed the delivery man the required payment, plus a generous tip. Brandon threw a peace sign before he left, whistling and shuffling the fifty technos he just received. 

Raymond held the pizza high above his head, his siblings crying out in cheer. They entered the small church house, quick to get to the kitchen so they could cook up their dinner. They got the oven prepared, mouths watering as they waited. Mikayla, the family cat, paced around their feet, likely in the hopes that she would eventually get a slice of pepperoni. Shannon usually handed her some of her toppings, so the feline had become a bit of a beggar. Raymond gently shooed her away from the quickly-heating oven, not wanting her to burn herself. 

Within a few minutes, the pizza was ready to put in the oven. The siblings watched through the little window as the cheese bubbled. It smelled divine. Were Raymond a lesser man, he'd be drooling all over himself in his anticipation. 

Suddenly the door that separated the kitchen from the main hall opened wide, revealing their smiling father. The older man waved as good Christian men and women walked down the hall, moving from the praying room towards the exit. 

"Farewell, my children! May God bless your lovely little souls!" As soon as the group of visitors left, Father Boxman turned and slammed the kitchen door, removing the patch over his left eye, wide smile immediately falling into a deep frown. " _Ugh_. I've been smelling that pizza for the past ten minutes now! Do you kids  _have_ to cook those things during services? It makes me look completely unprofessional!" 

"We only put it in, like, two minutes ago," Shannon told him. 

"Well, I've been smelling the oven, then!" Boxman threw his hands up into the air. "It smells disgusting! Sweet, like rotting meat! What do you kids put on there, anyway?" 

"Pepperoni," Raymond replied, as Darrell said "Pineapple!" 

"Disgusting." With that, Boxman perused the fridge, looking for his own meal to make. He settled for making some toast, pulling out the bread with a grunt of dissatisfaction. 

It only took another five or so minutes for the pizza to be done, and Raymond wasted no time in pulling it off the rack. It was scalding hot, even through the large paper plate it sat on, but he was quick. He avoided getting burned, only a little bit of redness on his fingertips revealing how hot the food was. Father Boxman smacked him upside the head for being such a hair-brained moron. 

The pizza sat out to cool for a moment, Boxman opting to head towards the living room while the siblings waited for their dinner. Shannon just couldn't wait, though, so she started slicing the pizza while it was still bubbling. She dished it up within only a handful of seconds, impatience making her work lightning-fast. She must have been starving. Raymond thought that was what she got for skipping lunch to roll a joint with her friends. 

The teens then decided to join their father on the couch. He had some sort of drama playing on the TV, and he was a blubbering mess. As he noticed his children entering the room, though, he hurriedly changed it to some PBS program. He said nothing as they sat down, the four of them squished together. 

With Raymond's size, he felt suffocated. Despite that, though, he was happy to spend the rest of his Friday like this. It had been a good day, and it felt nice to finally get to relax with his family. 

That is, until around halfway through his second slice, when Boxman spoke up. 

"I heard you kids got into detention again today." He said it casually, his mouth full of peanut butter, toast, and pickles. "Principal Garcia called me. In the middle of my service, too. It was quite embarrassing." 

All three siblings froze mid-bite. It wasn't at all uncommon for them to get into detention, even on purpose. It  _was_ rare, however, that the school called their father about it. As of now, all of them were nervous; they didn't know what type of punishment they would receive. Hopefully they would get their typical scolding, and not one of their harsher punishments. It wasn't looking good, though. A calm Boxman was a scary Boxman. 

"Well," Shannon started, slowly finishing her bite, "It's only for the weekend. We didn't do anything too bad, we were just having some fun." 

"Yeah! Harmless fun!" Darrell laughed, doing his best to lighten up the mood a bit. Raymond said nothing. He wasn't a part of this. He only got detention because he was  _there._  He wasn't about to antagonize his already-angry father. 

"Really, now?" Boxman set his plate aside, kicking back in his seat. "I heard you vandalized the school." 

"It was just a cross, daddy!" Darrell whined, "It wasn't anything weird, like a dong or something." 

Before anyone even saw him move, Boxman smacked Darrell in the face with the back of his hand, knocking his head back so hard he may have gotten whiplash. 

"Don't you  _dare_  take that tone with me!" Boxman roared. Raymond and Shannon sat still, looking at their laps, pizza long forgotten. "And how many times have I told you not to call me 'daddy?' People will get the wrong idea! It's 'Father' to you!" 

Darrell didn't reply, only staring his father down with his weak attempt at a glare. Behind his long, curly bangs, his cheek began to redden, mirroring the burn scars on his parent's face. Boxman fumed, turning to face Shannon. 

"And you! You talked back to principal Garcia, didn't you?" When Shannon didn't answer, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling their faces close. "Are you going to answer me? Or did you  _finally_  learn to keep your damn mouth shut?" 

Shannon didn't say a word. Her eyes were watering, and her throat had likely closed up, as she was having a hard time keeping her breath even and steady. After a moment she was pushed back into Darrell, and they huddled together silently. 

Last of all was Raymond. The priest turned to him, sizing him up. As he stared with narrowed eyes, he slowly started to settle back down, sinking into the seat of the couch. Raymond did not look away; he maintained eye contact. 

Eventually Boxman seemed to calm down, letting out a heavy sigh. He picked up the remote, surfing through channels, although he didn't seem to be paying much attention to the television. 

"It's your fault, you know," he said, not even looking at his son. "If you hadn't let them get into trouble, I wouldn't have had to scold them like that." 

Raymond lowered his eyes, immediately feeling guilty. It really  _was_  his fault. He could have stopped his older siblings from vandalizing the school's art building, but he didn't. He let them get into trouble, even though it was well within his power to keep that from happening. 

All was quiet for a long while, only the tinny sound of their TV cutting through the silence. They watched the last few minutes of some romcom the channel landed on, trying to wind down from their argument. 

When the movie ended, Boxman stood and took his plate, as well as those of his children. He looked them over, almost looking guilty for just a moment. 

"I'm sorry that had to happen, kids," he said, voice almost a whisper. "I don't like to do that. I just get so angry!" He sighed, "Although, I suppose Raymond should be the one apologizing. After all, it's his fault you two got detention in the first place." 

Boxman moved towards the kitchen, tossing the remote in Darrell's direction for him to catch. In passing, he got one last word in: "And, really, isn't that the same as if he were the one who had punished you himself?" And with that he left to wash the dishes. He could be heard humming some contrastingly cheerful tune as the sink turned on. 

All three siblings were quiet. Darrell and Shannon let out sighs of relief, knowing that they were off the hook. Darrell handed Raymond the remote with a smile, his right eye watering as he said something about heading to bed. As he headed upstairs, Shannon followed after him, giving Raymond one last sympathetic look; nobody enjoyed the more physical punishments, but the ideas he planted in their heads were so much worse. Shannon wanted to let her younger brother know that things were fine, but didn't dare say so out loud. Raymond gave his sister a small smile, his way of letting her know he was okay. 

As she headed up to her room, Raymond continued to watch the TV, although he could hardly pay attention to what was going on. His mind was foggy and blank, as if he'd just woken up from a too-short nap. The television was like static white noise to his numbed ears.

He stayed up for another few hours, even after his father had gone to bed. Eventually, though, the exhaustion got bad enough that he knew he'd be able to sleep just fine. 

He made his way upstairs, careful not to wake his sleeping family. He brushed his teeth, but didn't bother to change into his pajamas; he just didn't have the energy. He flopped onto his bed, his limbs splayed out like a sunbathing starfish. Mikayla jumped onto his chest, kneading and curling up for a slumber of her own. 

Raymond set his bedside alarm. He had to wake up early; he had detention in a few hours. 


	2. Of Focus and Stealth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit of a filler chapter, but it holds a little bit of plot (mostly backstory, but not much of one). This one is a little longer than the previous chapter. I'm surprised that I managed to bust this one out! It usually takes me a few months to update a story, haha. (Also, I tried to add some humor with a bit of a crack ship! It's unrequited though, haha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of a dead person, the q-slur used in a derogatory context, some other slurs, more shoplifting, internalized homophobia, accidental as well as intentional misgendering.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Boxman kids were incredibly noisy as they walked to school. They were fighting about something they saw on the news that morning. 

"No way," Shannon said, "I bet it's a kid. That's probably why they won't release their identity. Don't wanna upset the public  _too_ much." 

"It could be for privacy, though," argued Darrell. "What if the dead guy is some big-shot millionaire, and they want to freeze his head so he can come back later? Like they're doing with Walt Disney?" 

"Walt Disney is long gone, Darrell. He's not coming back." Raymond sighed, almost embarrassed to even be a part of the conversation. 

"A boy can dream, can't he?" 

"The thing about dreams," Shannon countered, "is that they aren't real. Not gonna happen, brother." 

Darrell whined, sounding much like a child. He went on about how dreams never die, so they had to come true eventually. It was comical how fervid he was in his belief on whether or not a recovered body could later be revived, as if that were actually possible. 

The topic at hand was that, during breakfast, they saw a breaking news report about a corpse that had been recovered the previous night. It was discovered by accident, while the police had dogs searching for a suspect for an unrelated case. The identity of the body had yet to be revealed. All they could say was that the body was found buried near where the old church was, the one that had burned down about ten years ago. The person the police found had supposedly died in the flames and had been buried afterward. Some suspected foul-play, while others believed that the body had been buried by a loved one. It was too early to tell. 

The kids, however, had their own theories. Shannon thought the victim may be a child. Darrell believed the body belonged to a rich person or celebrity. Raymond didn't particularly care about all that, but he was pretty sure that the victim was just a loyal church-goer from back then who hadn't been lucky enough to escape the roaring flames. 

The siblings bickered for a while longer, but soon grew bored; it was just another news story, after all. It was only interesting because it was so close, and things like that rarely happened in their hometown. It was just a little bit unsettling, so all one could do was laugh it off. 

It didn't take much longer for them to reach the school. They were a few minutes late, but it didn't matter. It was only detention. They'd be spending that time doing nothing, anyway. Three hours of sitting around, maybe looking at their phones if the teacher working that day didn't catch them. 

They walked in with little flourish, silently taking a head count; they wanted to know exactly how many people they could mess with for the next two days. There were only four other people in the room, all of whom were looking at their devices or doodling, as the teacher had not arrived yet (which means it was likely Ms. Fink, the American History teacher, who was always late to her own classes). 

Raymond's heart sunk, though, while his siblings' likely sped up with excitement, judging by the way their eyes suddenly lit up; right there, sitting in the row second from the front, was Radicles. He was minding his own business, writing down some notes about who-knows-what, and hadn't noticed them quite yet. 

Shannon and Darrell snuck around behind him, then split off to sit in the seats on either side of him. Raymond sat just behind. They were all quiet for a few minutes, just waiting to be noticed. 

It wasn't until the teacher stomped her way in, nose perpetually scrunched in anger or distaste, that Rad looked up. He jumped, practically squawking when he noticed that he was surrounded by the Boxmans themselves. He hit his head on his desk with a groan. 

"Oh, shut up, you big baby." Ms. Fink grouched at him, "Detention isn't even that bad. You guys get to relax and hang out for a few hours while  _I_ have to do a bunch of work!" 

Rad didn't move his head or say a word, only sighing in anticipative defeat. Raymond felt a little bad for him. But, his attention was mostly held by the teacher tapping her foot at the front of the room, her heavy boots clacking loudly on the tiled floor. 

"You brats are all in here for a reason, you got that? You  _all_ messed up. So I'll have no dilly-dallying from any of you!" She paced around as she spoke, maintaining eye-contact with each student one at a time, her gaze never wavering. "That means no talking, no playing, and  _definitely_ no fussing!" 

Shannon raised her hand, her other placed on Rad's shoulder in a faux-casual manner. She asked with a mildly sassy tone: "What can we do then if we can't even have any fun?" 

"I'm sure you kids will figure something out," Ms. Fink waved her off. "You guys can all stare at the wall and pretend there's a movie on or something. If you're really desperate, I can lend you a textbook to read." 

When she was met with utter silence, the teacher clapped her hands together, telling them all, "Now get to it!" She then pulled her glasses out of her pocket, placing them on the tip of her nose as she sat at her own desk, propping her feet on top of it and sifting through a stack of papers. 

The room was quiet, aside from the sound of shuffling papers. Nobody spoke, instead opting to sneak their phones and tablets out from where they were hidden within pockets and bags. Ms. Fink talked a big talk, but so long as you were quiet, she rarely enforced the school's rules on electronics and such. 

Shannon leaned a bit more into Rad's personal space, hand moving from his left shoulder to his right. She had an arm around him then, and she used it to pull him into almost a side hug. 

"Hey," she whispered, "how did a goody-goody like you get in here?" Once she asked the question, Raymond started to wonder, too. Not that he would admit it. He continued to pretend he wasn't listening, choosing instead to fiddle with his phone. 

Radicles sighed, barely lifting his head to say: "I don't wanna talk about it." His face slammed back onto the desk, making a sound loud enough to startle a nearby student, as well as getting him shushed by the teacher. 

"Come on, you must have done something pretty bad to get in here!" Darrell quietly exclaimed, leaning his back on Rad's side, practically laying on him. When Rad didn't respond, he turned to face him, draping himself over the other's shoulder. "Come on, did you trip a Freshman over? Did you call Gar a dick? Did you get in a fight? I bet you lost." He only became more animated, his hands flailing about as he mimed different actions. Ms. Fink glared him down. 

"No, nothing like that," Rad mumbled, "I just cheated on a te-" He cut himself off, once he got a good look at Darrell. "...a test. Dude, what happened to your face?" 

Shannon smacked him upside the head, but not hard enough to really hurt. Darrell didn't seem to mind the question, though. 

"I got into a fight! A  _real_ one!" The young Boxman stood, fist over his heart and one foot on the desk. He loudly proclaimed, "Sure, I have  _one_ bruise on my face. But you should see the other guy! He's probably gonna have a scar! He was big, but he didn't stand a chance against my-!" 

The rest of the students laughed as Fink marched over, pulling Darrell away from the group and lifting Rad up by the arm. She was absolutely livid. 

"You two are going to principal Garcia's office,  **NOW!** " Still holding onto both boys, she stormed towards the door. Darrell complained the whole way, going on about how he didn't want to be alone with "Miss Metalhead." Rad didn't say anything, but he did elbow Darrell in the ribs, earning a yelp from the Boxman—and a "Hey!" from Ms. Fink. The students giggled as the teacher left with the unruly teens, but a few of them at least tried to cover it up. Shannon didn't bother, cackling loudly. 

"How much are you willing to bet they're gonna be best buddies by the time they come out?" Shannon almost couldn't get the words out with how hard she was laughing. Raymond patted her back gently so she could catch her breath. 

"I think it's more likely that they get into a fight. An  _actual '_ real' fight, not a  _Darrell '_ real' fight." While Rad never stood up to the Boxmans as a unit, if Darrell decided to pick on him on his own, Rad usually wasn't afraid to give him a taste of his own medicine. He was a bit more hesitant with Shannon, who has on more than one occasion pulled a blade on someone who stepped on too many nerves. If he was alone with Raymond, they usually opted to ignore each other, although some names and slurs have been thrown around. 

After Shannon managed to finally calm down, the room grew quiet. Everyone wondered what Ms. Fink was going to do when she came back; when she was truly angry, she became the teacher from Hell. She was known for her long rants, as well as her uncanny ability to instill fear in any student, even those who believed themselves to be above such things. 

Around ten minutes later, though, the teacher who walked in was not Ms. Fink, but Ms. Kincaid. She looked overly cheerful when she arrived, her wide grin almost blinding. 

"Hello, students! I've been called in to take over for Ms. Fink." She sat at Fink's desk, reaching inside and smiling at the students in front of her. "I guess I'm supposed to keep you guys entertained for a while! So, I came prepared with some practice exams..." She pulled out the needed papers, and the class groaned. "Now, now. I know that history isn't my usual subject, but I'm sure we can make this fun and exciting!" She handed out the papers, assuring them that they would not be graded. 

Raymond and Shannon both slammed their faces onto their respective desks. It was a way to pass the time, but not quite in the way they had hoped. Raymond prayed that tomorrow's detention wouldn't go the same way. 

* * *

 It may have only taken a few hours of their time, but Raymond and Shannon felt that the latest detention was the most boring one yet. They almost envied Darrell; after all, he didn't have to sit through non-stop history lessons. They were sure that they would ace the next exam, at least. 

The duo waited just outside the school doors for their brother. It didn't take long before he arrived, pushing Rad through the double doors in front of himself, causing him to tumble down the half-dozen cement steps as the young Boxman yelled: "Smell you later, tranny!" Shannon laughed, and Raymond was just surprised that Radicles got up with only minor scrapes and bruising. Rad brushed himself off, throwing the middle finger over his shoulder as he made his way towards his van. He drove off without a word. 

The three siblings decided to go to the mall, just to look around and have fun. Since it was a Saturday, it was bound to be busy, which meant that Darrell would likely try to snag an expensive candy bar or two. Shannon was sure to hog the demo games that would be on display. Raymond planned on trying on some new clothes. He didn't have a lot of cash on him, so he probably wouldn't buy more than a new jacket or a fresh pair of jeans. Perhaps he could ask Darrell to grab something for him if he saw something else he really liked. 

On the way there, Shannon asked Darrell what he and Rad had to do while they were in the principal's office. 

"Oh, it was no big deal," he replied, "We just had to sit there while Gar stared at us. It was...kind of weird." Raymond could imagine it: Manuel (Eugene) Garcia, shades on his face, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which rested atop his desk. Hands steepled over his mouth as he scrutinized the troublemakers sitting across from him. Silent. It was what he always did when he wasn't screaming at the students. It was quite unsettling. Raymond thought it was worse than the yelling. 

Darrell bragged about how quiet he was the whole time, and how Rad couldn't even sit still. His siblings didn't believe him, though. Darrell couldn't go two seconds without moving or making some sort of noise. Rad, on the other hand, was pretty much always quiet. Around the Boxmans, at least. Raymond called his brother a liar, which earned him a screech of vehement denial. 

They chatted and argued the whole way to the shopping center, passing the bodega in favor of the main building, a decently-sized mall. There were a variety of stores there, ranging from Macy's to GameStop to McDonald's. The siblings split up at first, all wanting to visit different shops. 

As predicted, Darrell went in the direction of the nearest candy store, which was run by Jane, a quiet girl with vibrantly pink hair that was always pulled up into a high ponytail. Darrell sometimes flirted with her, always comparing her to cotton candy or gum or something. She only ever responded with a bored look, shutting him down with some nihilistic sentiment or another. She occasionally gave him a free sucker if he got creative. The display never failed to get a laugh out of the siblings when they were there to witness it. Raymond was sure that it was going to happen again this time, too. 

Shannon said she was going to see if there was any new makeup to check out. She pulled out her phone, typing something on it as she walked away, not even looking where she was going. She knew the place by heart, and most passerby knew to give her a clear path if they wanted to keep their skin unblemished and unbruised. 

Raymond decided to go to a nearby clothing store, just as he'd planned. He knew there was a good one on the second floor, so he took the escalator. The shop was just around the corner from where it dropped him off. 

This store was known for its variety. It held all sorts of clothing items and accessories, ranging from thrifty to somewhat high-end, all for a decent price. They also had some cheap jewelry, as well as silly hats. It was the perfect place to shop for a new outfit, whatever your style. 

Raymond perused the racks, sifting through he coats and jackets; the weather was getting colder, and his plain t-shirts and vests weren't going to cut it for much longer. He took a mental note of which ones he liked best, as well as their prices. 

He looked to the register to see if the employee manning it would notice if he took something extra. He wasn't surprised when he saw that Drupe was the one working the register. She started her shift an hour or so after school ended every day, so she was usually there whenever Raymond was buying. She was pretty chill about shoplifters, so Raymond wasn't too worried. 

What  _did_ surprise him was that Rad was there. She and Radicles were chatting it up, obviously flirting. Rad didn't seem to notice that there was a line of people behind him, just smiling goofily as Drupe giggled and gossiped. Eventually, though, the person behind him got tired of waiting, and promptly cuffed him upside the head. Rad seemed to get the message, holding his hands up in a placating gesture before throwing Drupe a wink and double finger guns. He then went deeper into the store, over towards the hats. 

Raymond then decided he would ignore Radicles and just mind his own business. His siblings were ruthless, but he himself never had any particular issue with their classmate, usually choosing to ignore the other when he could. In fact, under different circumstances, Raymond might have even befriended him. They didn't get along, but perhaps they would if Raymond had been adopted by a different family. One that wasn't so...chaotic.

Raymond honestly felt for Radicles. They actually had quite a bit in common. But, unlike Rad, the Boxman teen had to hide most of the traits that made hom who he was. Otherwise, he'd likely end up back in the system.

With that thought in mind, Raymond flashed back to their younger years, when he himself was only eleven, and Rad twelve. 

* * *

 Raymond had just been adopted by Father Boxman. He really looked up to the priest, as well as his new siblings. He was only a year younger than they were, but at the time, that seemed like a lot. Within a few weeks after his adoption, he was allowed to join Shannon and Darrell on one of their adventures. It was so exciting! 

They brought him along after school, and they had bumped into Rad, along with his friends Enid and Kaio. At the time, Rad had been much smaller, not at all the bulking chunk of muscle he was now. He was just as tall then, but without all that extra mass, he almost appeared frail. He was an easy target. 

Raymond had been completely oblivious to what was going on, initially. He was just excited to hang out with the bigger kids. He didn't think anything of the way Rad's shoulders had tensed up, or how Enid had thrown the Boxmans a dismayed look, or how Kaio stood in front of his friend and sister. For all little Raymond knew, this was just a friendly meetup between pals, and he was going to be a part of it. 

It started with some words exchanged between Shannon and Enid, which sounded far from friendly. Raymond couldn't quite remember what was said, only that whatever it was confused him. Darrell put in his two cents as well, and it definitely wasn't nice. Catching on, young Raymond had slammed a fist against his palm in what he hoped was an intimidating gesture. He wanted to look mean, he wanted to look threatening, he wanted to make his siblings proud. He wanted to earn his place beside them, and if that meant being a bit of a bully, he could do that. For them. 

Most of what was said seemed to be directed at Rad, who, at the time, Raymond had written off as some quiet girl who was just  _there,_ who didn't really participate in what was going on. He had just stood there, looking sorry for himself. What Raymond didn't know was that Rad had just come out as trans, and he was getting a lot of flak for it. Insults and beatings from his peers, as well as their parents, was commonplace. "Queers" weren't very welcome in their town. Not that Raymond was aware of this at first.

After Shannon said something particularly nasty, Kaio had gone up to her, trying to tell her off as well as a child of six years could. Needless to say, he wasn't very successful. He ended up getting shoved back by Darrell, causing him to scrape up his hands in an attempt to catch himself. Enid was immediately furious, yelling about how he was just a little kid, and you can't hurt a kid. 

For the first time during the whole encounter, Radicles spoke up as well: "Yeah! You're all a bunch of bullies. Leave us alone already!" 

Raymond's older siblings had laughed then, as if that were the funniest thing in the world. Raymond himself had his fists raised, fully prepared to duke it out with the other trio, but he was starting to doubt the situation altogether. He'd lowered his fists, feeling a little lost. Shannon stopped laughing eventually, but Darrell continued to giggle as his sister spoke. 

"Did you hear that? It thinks it can tell us what to do!" She burst out laughing yet again. 

"Hah! It's almost like it thinks it can understand anything, even though it doesn't even know what its own gender is!" He cupped his hands over his mouth to yell out, "Check between your legs, genderfag!"

Radicles had looked down at his feet, setting his jaw. Raymond's blood ran cold; he wondered if Radicles was a lesbian, as he was still under the impression that Rad was a girl. Is that why they were making fun of her? Because she liked other girls? 

He started to feel really bad, both about Rad and about himself. He had discovered not too long ago that he liked boys, and didn't like girls at all. His foster parents over in Washington hadn't made a big deal about it when he came out, but they had warned him to be careful of who else he told, because some people were really mean to people like him. He hadn't understood at the time, but now he knew that they had meant people like his new siblings. 

He looked over to Rad, who had tears in his eyes. He was being walked away by Enid, who ignored all the other insults thrown their way. The older Boxmans didn't follow them, just throwing a couple pebbles they found on the sidewalk. Raymond had just stared down the road towards where the three friends left to, feeling a sort of kinship with them. He felt really sad, but before he could dwell on it, his siblings told him it was time to go home. 

Raymond didn't like being a bully, especially if it was about all  _that._ But he was stuck, and he had no other family to go to. His only other option would be to sit in cramped offices and talk to strangers all day until one decided to keep him. And he had no idea if that stranger would be a good guy. He wanted to avoid that, even if it meant he had to play nice with his mean older siblings. He would follow them, and he would do what they asked him to do. He would keep his secret. He would become a true Boxman, even if that meant pretending he was somebody else. 

So he followed his new brother and sister, adopting an air of confidence he wished he felt. From then on through the following years, his stride grew stronger, his body larger and more intimidating. He grew to be the coolest kid on the block, with the badassery to back it up. He even began to care about his siblings, the more he saw of them. They weren't always horrible, after all. 

But his heart grew weaker. He learned that Father Boxman wasn't the man the town thought he was. Raymond had to find excuses for his bruised arms, his scraped hands, his absences from school. And every time he saw Radicles, who only became more open and confident in his identity, more stong and rowdy, Raymond's own insecurities worsened, as did his self-esteem. 

But he had to keep it a secret. He had to play the flirtatiously apathetic cool kid, the standoffish jock that was simply too cool to date even the cheerleaders. He had to seem like he was just too good to have anyone to call him their boyfriend. If the town ever learned of who he truly was, if his  _father_ ever found out, he wasn't sure he'd make it out of Lakewood alive. 

* * *

 Raymond snapped out of his thoughts; he wasn't sure how long he just stood there among the jackets, but he knew that it was probably at least a minute or two. He could see in one of the nearby mirrors that his face was red, and his forehead had deep frown lines. He looked like an idiot. He quickly allowed his face to smooth out, combing a hand through his hair casually as he looked around to see if anyone had noticed his little blank episode. He was relieved to find that nobody was paying him any attention. 

Deciding that he didn't need any new clothes that day, he rushed out of the store, hoping to meet up with Darrell. He was in the mood for some sweets, and could really use a candy bar. 

It didn't take long to find him, as the older Boxman almost bowled him over as he left the clothing store. Shannon nearly tripped herself in her attempt to avoid crashing into them both. 

"C'mon," Darrell said hurriedly, picking up some chocolates he'd dropped, "we gotta go! We gotta go!" 

Raymond didn't ask any questions, he just ran after them. They practically flew down the escalator to the first floor. He could hear security yelling for them to stop as they passed through the entrance they came from, setting off the sensors and filling the mall with a deafening  ** _beep, beep, beep!_**  

Raymond was sure that they wouldn't be allowed back at the mall for a month or two, though. But that was fine. There were other stores. Surely they could find one they weren't banned from. 

Even as they were leaving the plaza, candy—and a video game that Shannon snagged—in tow, they kept running. They knew that security wouldn't follow them once they were out of the parking lot. In fact, the security guards were already slowing down, knowing they would never catch up to the delinquent teens. 

They passed by a number of people, almost running into some in their haste. Some people shouted after them, but most just went back to doing their own things. 

In passing the bodega, Raymond couldn't help but look towards the front window to see if Radicles was back on the clock, wanting to make sure he was out of the way, lest Shannon and Darrell take notice of him and decide to stop and give him a hard time. In the few seconds he had, he could see that Rad was indeed working. One of his arms was raised to restock some cereal on a high shelf near the front of the store, but his eyes were on the Boxman trio. He and Raymond held eye contact for a moment. It only lasted maybe a second, for Raymond had to look ahead to avoid running into the bodega's sign. He quickly swerved around it, sprinting to catch up to his siblings. 

Within a few more seconds they were out of the plaza, and out of reach of the mall security guards. Even so, they ran a little further. They didn't stop until they reached the church. 

Once inside, the Boxmans hurried through the living room, rushed up the stairs into Darrell's room, and flung themselves onto his bed in a fit of giggles. The oldest brother opened up his arms, dropping at least a dozen candy bars onto his comforter, then unzipped his hoodie to unleash a mound of expensive chocolates and other candies. Shannon and Raymond were awestruck, impressed by the sheer number of sweets lain before them. 

"There has to be fifty technos' worth of stuff here!" Shannon cried out. 

"Try  _a hundred_ ," Darrell replied. "I got this stuff from the fancy place on the second floor!" 

Shannon cackled, grabbing a couple of the more expensive candies and digging in. Raymond decided on a specific candy bar, knowing his brother got it just for him; Twix were his favorite. 

The three teens hung out in Darrell's room for most of the night, having a good time snacking on sweets and taking turns with Shannon's new video game. They had a great time, the fun only ending with the siblings crashed and piled up on each other, passed out with faces and hands sticky with chocolate. Discarded wrappers blanketed them, making a big mess of the bed. Nonetheless, they all slept soundly, temporarily forgetting that they were anything besides normal teens leading normal lives. 

When Father Boxman came to check up on them on his way to his own room, he was hardly surprised to see his children in the state they were in. He sighed and shook his head, just a hint of a smile gracing his scarred face. He closed the door gently, muttering about how they all better take showers in the morning; they were filthy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the latest chapter! This one was a little trickier to write. Although, I DID find that I enjoy writing for Fink!
> 
> Reminder that y'all can talk to me on Tumblr @littlejowo
> 
> I'm also on Twitter @RadicalBotBoy
> 
> I hope you look forward to the next chapter!


	3. A Dance Battle? Now That's More Like It!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't like the arcade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! I kept getting stuck on it, and when I finally figured out how to continue it, I didn't have time to write it due to my job! I've been working on an animated "stinger" commercial for a local TV station, and animation takes a VERY long time (especially when there is only one other animator in the whole company, haha).
> 
> I will say now that this chapter, while still canon to the story, is totally filler. It takes place maybe a month or two before chapter one. I just wanted to delve into Raymond's feelings about Rad a bit, and wasn't sure how to do that during current events. I thought it would also be nice to show how he interacts with Rad when his siblings aren't around.
> 
> This one is a bit shorter, unfortunately, but I think you'll enjoy it anyway. Loosely based on one of my favorite episodes!
> 
> Also, check out this radical fan art!! I wasn't really expecting this fic to get any, especially this early on! https://sweaterraptor.tumblr.com/post/174854675989/littlejowo-sorry-for-the-tag-i-just-finally-got

Raymond and Shannon let out a loud  _whoop!_ as the game ended, screen flashing neon colors at them. According to the Galaxian machine, Shannon had just beaten the previous high score with a whopping 46,500 points. A round of tickets burst out of the machine, showering their feet in dozens upon dozens of slips of arcade currency. Shannon laughed in a way that could only be described as manic as she picked up the little pieces of paper, stuffing them into her overalls pockets. Her pride and glee were clear as day on her grinning face.

  
Afterwards, she stated that she would be exchanging them for some prizes; she'd won many other games before Galaxian, so she had hundreds if not thousands of tickets. She was an experienced gamer, and any time she went to the arcade, she came out with enough prizes to more than make up for the amount of money put into the games. She could probably win the lottery, were she of age.

  
Raymond acknowledged her with a nod, saying that he would stay at the arcade a while longer. He had to beat her records, after all. Shannon shrugged and left for the exchange booths. She yelled over her shoulder that he'd better win something, too, or it'd be just plain embarrassing to be associated with him.

  
Raymond laughed a bit to himself. He was here for the games, not the prizes. If he really wanted something, he could buy it, or maybe ask Darrell to steal it for him. He had no need for tiny figurines or cheap candies. He was here to cause a ruckus, and have some fun while he was at it.

  
The first game he decided to play was Dig-Dug. He was pretty good at the game, possibly the best if you were to ask him, and he made it all the way to level fourteen before he lost all his lives. Hardly discouraged, he played some other classics as well, such as Sinistar and Big Buck Hunting.

  
As he was playing Pac-Man, a crowd started to gather behind him. He was kicking butt, what with the three bonus lives he had earned so far, none of which he had lost yet. The ghostly enemies were going mad, doing whatever they could to corner him. He had some close calls, but he always managed to slip between them all and down another path. He was in the double-digits, passing level after level. He was unstoppable.

  
It was probably well over an hour before he finally lost, losing all of his lives during the same level. The crowd had only grown larger by then, but it dissipated immediately upon his loss. Prideful nonetheless, Raymond was more than happy to put in his high score under the name RAY. It was a good game. But, now, he wanted to try something he had a little less practice in. Just to challenge himself a bit.

  
He moved over to the Guitar Hero machine, deciding to try his luck at expert mode. He wasn't a master of the game, by any means, but he could do well enough in hard mode. Why not try the next step up? It couldn't be that much harder.

  
He was very wrong, however. He began to work up a bit of a sweat as his hands fiddled with the controls in a vain attempt at actually playing the game. His usually carefully-styled hair dampened and wilted, getting into his eyes and making it even harder to play. The hair at the back of his head flattened down until it nearly stuck to his shoulders. He felt gross, and could not wait for the song to end so he could fix up his 'do in the bathroom. Who knew that a guitar game could make a person perspire so much?

  
When the piece was nearly over, two quarters were placed on the machine, signaling that someone wanted the next turn. Which Raymond would be more than happy to give, if he were being truthful.

  
Within the next minute or so the song was over, and Raymond took his place in the number seven spot in the leaderboards and handed over the controller. He just hoped he didn't sweat on the frets; that would be incredibly embarrassing. He didn't want to be known as the guy who made game controllers all sticky and wet with his moist hands.

  
"Thanks, man," the person waiting behind him said, stepping up to the machine so he could insert his coins. Raymond was baffled to see that it was Radicles, who he had been avoiding whenever he was with his siblings. Rad didn't look to him, and didn't seem to know who he was speaking to, simply picking through the characters on the screen. Otherwise, he would have surely moved to a different game.

  
Raymond looked over towards the exchange booth, hoping his sister was not there to notice Rad at the arcade, even though he logically knew that she had left a long while ago. It was a relief nonetheless when he could see it for himself.

  
When Raymond looked back, about to sarcastically tell Rad to have fun before he rushed into the bathroom to fix his unruly hair, he saw that Rad was already turning to look at him. Both men froze, one with a look of alarm and the other with surprised wariness. They stared at each other for a while before Raymond acted.

  
"Hope you get the lowest score,  _loser!_ " Raymond fell into his usual persona, flipping his hair to the side and strolling casually towards where he knew the restrooms to be. He didn't look back; he couldn't, if he wanted to look cool. With his hair looking the way it did, he had only his personality to rely on. It had lost most of its volume, now fallen limply over his shoulders, and it looked hideous. He probably (definitely) looked like some metal-head hooligan! He needed to gel it immediately, and then probably leave the arcade.

  
Upon entering the bathroom, he slammed his hands down onto one of the sinks with a  **BAM!** He looked in the mirror at himself, at his nearly-straight, shoulder-length hair. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and pulled out the miniature bottle of emergency hair gel he kept in his jacket-vest's left pocket.

  
In somewhat of a rush, Raymond coated his hair in the slimy substance, forming it into the exact shape he wanted: fun in the front, slicked in the back. When he was done, he put the bottle back in his vest, grabbing a small can of spray from the right pocket. He gave his hair one quick spritz so it would retain its shape a little better, which he really should have done before coming to the arcade.

  
Once he'd looked himself over and deemed his appearance to be satisfactory, he left the bathroom, allowing the door to swing open dramatically. It almost hit somebody who was about to walk in, but Raymond ignored him in favor of heading to the exchange booth; he had a few tickets, after all, so why not spend them?

  
Raymond looked at the shelves that held various prizes. Some of them were candies or stuffed animals, but there were also electronics for those who had earned a lot of tickets (and Raymond was just a little upset that Pac-Man didn't give out tickets, for this very reason. Not that it was a big deal or anything).

  
The man at the counter looked about to fall asleep, just waiting for Raymond to make a pick. The Boxman teen looked over his shoulder towards the Guitar Hero machine, a little surprised to see that Radicles was still rocking away. He was playing as Midori, strumming a song that looked particularly difficult. His body swayed to the music, and half the time he wasn't even looking at the screen, jamming as if he had the song memorized.

  
This gave Raymond an idea. It could get him more tickets, and perhaps something to really rub in Rad's face—something that wasn't just plain cruel, for once.

  
With a slow grin, Raymond moved from the counter and stalked his way over to Radicles, putting a couple quarters on the machine as he stood behind the other.

  
"Yeah, just a second," Rad huffed out a laugh as he hit a triple chord, "lemme just finish this song first."

  
Raymond waited somewhat patiently for the song to end. When it finally did, Radicles turned to hand the guitar over to Raymond, but stopped short. His eyes looked about to bug right out of his head. It was almost funny.

  
But, Raymond wasn't here to scare the guy. He was here for a bit of fun. And not the horrible kind Rad was probably expecting.

  
"Radicles, I challenge you to a dance battle!"

  
If Rad's eyes could go any wider, they definitely would have, although Raymond was unsure if it was due to the challenge itself, or that he used Rad's name in place of his old one, or an insult. Rad nearly dropped the controller in his surprise, fumbling to keep it in his grip before reaching back to put it on its rack.

  
"A dance battle?" Rad asked hesitantly, "What for?"

  
"What, afraid you'll lose?"

  
"No way, man!" Rad puffed out his chest, as if truly offended by the accusation. "I'm the best dancer out there!" He deflated slightly, proud grin falling into almost a pout. "I just...You know, with you..."

  
"Oh, please," Raymond waved away his concern, "If I wanted to do anything to you, I would have done so before I let you have a turn with this silly game."

  
“You mean the one you ‘let' me play so you could go fix your rat's nest?” Rad couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes and clearly trying not to smile.

  
“Why, you! My hair always looks amazing!” Raymond stomped on the ground in a way that was admittedly childish. “All I wanted was a quick dance battle, but I suppose I win by default, if you’re going to be that way about it.”

  
“Woah woah woah, who said I was quitting? Just wanted to make sure you’re gonna be cool for once.”

  
“I'm  _always_ cool. But I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you’re referring to.”

  
Radicles didn't seem to buy it, and Raymond didn't blame him one bit. He leaned one arm on the machine, knowing full well he could look rather menacing, towering over the other man like this. Getting into his personal space, Raymond asked, "What, are you scared of a little dancing?"

  
At that Rad initially cowered, but he soon stood tall, throwing Raymond a challenging glare. When he wasn't hunched over in fear and uncertainty, he was almost as tall as the Boxman teen.

  
"You know what? You're on!" Radicles jabbed a single finger into Raymond's chest, earning him a scoff. "I'll show you how great I really am!"

  
"I look forward to it."

  
With a wink, Raymond led the way over to the dance game, grabbing his quarters from the Guitar Hero machine. He strode on in confidence. He was actually feeling rather giddy, if he were being honest with himself; this was the first time he'd ever spoken to Radicles with any sort of civility, and he was hoping that maybe something good would come of this. Not that he was expecting much. But he'd be happy if this made Rad not quiver in fear at the mere sight of him, at least. He'd rather see Rad bow down and shower him in praise for his dancing prowess.

  
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This wasn't the time for hopes or friends, this was the time for good music and the sweet taste of utter annihilation!

  
It took only a moment to reach the dance game, which was easy to find, what with the blaring techno and electro-pop music coming from its oversized speakers. There were already two small children playing, so the teens had to wait. It was hard to tell who felt more awkward about it as they teens stood as far apart as they could, while also making clear that they planned on playing this game together.

  
Soon enough, the song was over, and the sweaty kids ran off to play some other game. They accidentally left their tickets, so Raymond snagged them, earning a distasteful look from his opponent. He pocketed the tickets with a grin and a shrug.

  
Raymond took his place on the left dance mat, sifting through the song choices. He sorted through maybe five of them before he was bumped into, pushing him all the way onto the mat on the right with an undignified squeal.

  
"Oh, no, you don't," Rad tutted, "You issued the challenge, so  _I_ get to pick the song."

  
"You _dare?_ " Raymond asked, shocked.

  
"What? You and your pet demons push me all the time."

  
" _Demons?!_ "

  
"Oh, right. You guys are hyper-religious, huh. Excuse me, I meant 'rude dudes.'"

  
Raymond seethed, somewhat regretting his decision to invite Rad for a dance battle. The older teen was taking advantage of his hospitality, taking it as an opportunity to poke fun at Raymond, even going so far as to refer to his beloved siblings as  _demons_ of all things. Raymond had forgotten how crude atheists could be. But, as the Boxman was about to show him, Radicles was not the one in charge here. Raymond would let him pick the song, but he was absolutely not going to let Rad off the hook. He was going to wipe the floor with him.

  
Rad picked a song almost right away, some poppy thing in a minor key with a heavy beat. The screen said the song was called  _Begin Again_ by Purity Ring. He immediately started bobbing his head, selecting the song with a tap of his foot. He got into position with his feet spread apart, flexing and throwing Raymond a smug look. Raymond dusted himself off before quickly striking the first pose, earning an instant "perfect" while Rad bas busy showing off his biceps. Raymond gave the other a sly grin.

  
Radicles huffed at the taller man, puffing out his cheeks before shaking himself off and striking the needed pose. After that, it was on.

  
Raymond was fierce. There was a reason he was dubbed The Prince of Panache, after all. When he danced, it was like watching a shooting star, a beautiful, graceful thing that left a glowing trail in his wake. He was shining brightly as always, wooing his audience with every sway of his narrow hips. Every move was executed with artful perfection. He threw in a few dance moves of his own, peppering his own flair into the set. A few nearby women swooned at the display. It was absolutely glorious.

  
Rad, however, was able to keep up with little trouble. His movements were exaggerated and flashy, the perfect complement to Raymond's finesse. He was making a show of it, physically bragging how confident he was in his own body, how well he could really move. He was oddly mesmerizing, one's eyes naturally drawn to his large yet graceful form. Much like Raymond, he was definitely a crowd-pleaser.

  
Sure enough, people were soon swarming behind them, watching the competition as it unfolded before them. The song grew into a crescendo, louder and louder, hypnotizing, deafening, until it went quiet. Both men froze, and everyone held their breath. One beat, two beats, three, four...

  
Then the bass dropped, and everything went off the rails.

  
It seemed as if the whole arcade could burst with the amount of noise the crowd made, everyone's arms thrown into the air. Screaming and cheering could easily be heard over the music. The dancing teens both basked in the attention, their laughing faces practically split in two as they competed with renewed vigor.

  
Raymond and Radicles danced like their lives depended on it, both grinning from ear to ear. The air between them was thick, but it was liquid, flowing around them like a rushing river, drowning out all thought outside of  _win, win, win._  It was competitive but friendly, and throughout the song, neither cared that they were supposed to be victim and bully, in the moment only knowing each other as mutually talented and skilled dancers. There was a truce, a clear understanding that here, on this dance floor, they weren't enemies. They were rivals.

  
When the song was over, the crowd roared into applause. Some even threw coins and tickets their way. At some point even a rose was thrown, and Raymond caught it in his teeth like the show-off that he was.

  
He and Radicles were tired and breathless, but they both gave bows and thanks to those around them. They barely realized it when they were dancing, but they had caused quite a commotion. They had honestly forgotten they were at the arcade, lost in their own musical world.

  
As the crowd eventually started to disperse, the dancers turned to see who got the better score. Both of them had an S+ rank, so it was an incredibly close game. Their scores were likely only a few hundred points apart. They each looked at the others' score, then their own.

  
Radicles let out a loud  _whoop!_  as Raymond scoffed loudly at his side, arms crossed. Rad had scored only one more "perfect" than Raymond had, putting him ahead a mere fifty points.

  
"This is preposterous!" Raymond angrily stomped his foot. "I was _perfect!_  There's no way I should have lost!"

  
"Yowch, sorry, Raymond. Looks like I'm just more perfect than you are!" Radicles laughed heartily, holding his arms around his stomach as he struggled to stay upright. He had tears in his eyes, but he wasn't really crying; they were happy tears. Raymond liked them much better than his anguished crying.

  
Raymond wanted to get as far away from that thought as possible, so he dropped his rose and left the arcade, barely sparing his opponent another word. He didn't even stop to pick up all the tickets thrown his way, or to exchange the ones he already had. He was humiliated, and he wanted to go home.

 

* * *

 

 "What? You mean you didn't even get anything?"

Shannon and Raymond were hanging out in her room, sitting on her bed amongst her gratuitous number of pillows. Shannon’s face held a look of utter disbelief.

  
“Please,” Raymond scoffed, “I’d rather save my tickets for something truly incredible.”

  
“What, you mean like that Nintendo Switch?” Shannon laughed aloud. She held up a handful of the tickets her brother had won. “You’d need at least five thousand of these! At this rate, it’ll take you, like, a hundred years to get something that cool.”

  
Raymond huffed. He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d won hundreds more, but he’d left them scattered across the arcade floor during his hasty retreat. Like a big chicken or something. He’d never hear the end of it! He just hoped Radicles wouldn’t bring it up the next time the Boxman siblings decided to bully him.

  
“What could I do with a Switch? Think bigger.”

  
“Um, bouncy castle?”

  
“No,” Raymond let out an exasperated groan. “Of course not! I was thinking something with a little more... _panache._ ”

  
Shannon gave her brother a deadpan look, initially unable to figure out what he was talking about. The bouncy castle cost more tickets than anything else, after all, at a whopping 25,000. Then, all of a sudden, realization seemed to dawn on her.

  
“No way…You don't mean you’re gonna try to buy the whole arcade, are you? I don’t think that’s even allowed! You need actual money, right?” Her eyes were wide, both brows raised towards her hairline.

  
“Only the best for someone as incredible as _moi,_ you know!” He put his hand on his chest.

  
“Yeesh, and dramatic too.”

  
“I am absolutely not dramatic!” Raymond tried to defend himself. “I'm just a man of culture.”

  
“Sure. Theater jock culture.”

  
“Shannon, I was never a theater student.” Raymond groaned.

 

“You could've fooled me.”

  
Raymond rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. This was something his sister teased him about fairly often. He was used to it by now, but it never did stop being mildly annoying. Being a theater student required that one pretended to be someone else, which he was absolutely  _not_  doing! Unless you counted pretending to be straight, that is. But that was only a small part of him, not his entire character!

  
Shannon slapped him on the back in her odd way of consoling him, offering to share some of her arcade candy with him. The chocolate suckers smelled vaguely like popcorn and sweaty feet, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.

  
The two of them chilled out for hours, simply playing with some army figurines with useless plastic guns and lolipop-stick swords. It was a childish game, full of fantasy and the occasional sibling bicker, but in that moment, Raymond couldn’t think of a better or more relaxing place to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they danced to was Begin Again by Purity Ring. I've been listening to this song a lot lately, and I kept imagining these two dancing to it.
> 
> Not that it really matters for the chapters I've already posted, but thia story is going to have a pretty extreme genre change. I originally started writing this as a way to vent about the transphobia I've faced, as well as internalized homophobia and biphobia, and religion-based oppression and abuse.
> 
> However, I no longer feel the need to do that. I'm now very comfortable in who I am as both genderflux and bi/pan ace-spec. I have finally started my medical transition, and have actually been on testosterone for a little over two months now!
> 
> So, while this story will still contain similar themes relating to LGBT+ issues and religion, my main focus now is to have fun writing this! That means slightly less angst, a bit more positivity, and an absolutely wild plot that the story didn't have before! I think you'll all be VERY surprised when you see what I have in store for you!
> 
> I have chapter 4 plotted out, so I'm hoping I'll be able to get that one up a bit faster this time. It seems like it might be a bit longer, too!
> 
> I hope you look forward to the next chapter! I sure am!
> 
> (Also, here's your reminder that I'm super active at @RadicalBotBoy on Twitter, and often post art as well as updates on my job @LittleJDoesArt! I also post on Tumblr at @littlejowo)


	4. That Girl Isn't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detention is boring, as always. But the day is still young, and it will be spent eventfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is longer than the last, for sure. And it was quite a doozy to write!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Misgendering, some slurs, mentions of death and abuse, and some violence.

The room was filled with groans and complaints as Ms. Fink handed out test papers. Mr. Ernesto, the junior-year biology teacher who greatly enjoyed spending his little bit of free time helping other staff, gave each student a pencil.

  
“Come on, really?” A blonde sophomore boy—his name was Rex, or something—rolled his head back until his long hair nearly touched the floor. Ms. Fink shoved his feet from where they were propped up onto his desk.

  
“Oh, can it, will you?” She smacked a paper into his chest. “You all seemed to hate this stuff yesterday, and I get to relax. It’s a win-win!”

  
“More like a _lose_ -win,” Shannon muttered.

  
Mr. Ernesto bounced excitedly as he gave each teen a sharpened pencil. Raymond thought it was a bit creepy how enthusiastic he was to be here. Not exactly in a pedophilic way, but he still seemed a little  _too_ eager to hang around a bunch of rowdy teens.

  
“This is going to be so fun!” He said, “Much better than going out there and causing trouble, right?” Somebody threw a wad of crumpled paper at his head, causing his hat to fall off and reveal his balding scalp. He quickly grabbed his turtleneck and tried to cover the blush on his face as he bent down to pick it up, much to the amusement of everyone else in the classroom.

  
Everyone erupted into laughter at his expense. Ms. Fink was the only exception, and she smacked every student upside the head who so much as smiled at the display. Darrell almost got kicked out with how hard he was laughing; Raymond hadn’t seen it, but he was sure that his older brother had been the one to throw the paper ball.

  
After a while, everyone had settled down enough to start on their tests. The room became quiet, and all that could be heard was the sound of pencils and muttered complaints. Raymond himself was just doodling on his own paper, paying no mind to the questions on it. The quizzes wouldn’t even be graded, so what would be the point in putting in any effort?

  
In the seat directly in front of him, Radicles seemed to be focused on his work. At least, he was attempting to be. On either side of him were Shannon and Darrell, just like the day before. They weren’t doing much to rile him up today, as nobody wanted another trip to the principal's office, but they did whatever they could to distract their poor victim. This included pinching his hips underneath the table, digging their nails into his sides, and Darrell at one point even “accidentally” dropping his pencil so he could bite Rad's leg when he bent down to pick it up, to Raymond's mild dismay. He was surprised they didn’t get busted when Rad's knee hit the bottom of the desk hard enough to scare the living Hell out of everyone in the room.

  
Radicles tried his best to ignore them, he really did. But it was clear he was reaching his limit, if his tensed shoulders and quivering hands were anything to go by. Shannon and Darrell's assaults only came every few minutes or so, but they were constant and unrelenting. And, after going three days straight with their bullying, when he was used to one or two incidents per week, Rad seemed about to burst. His bruises hadn’t even had a chance to heal yet. The siblings could obviously tell he was getting overwhelmed, looking to each other with devilish smirks. Raymond could see that they had something planned, but he wasn’t sure what.

  
Clearly, he had to show them who was boss.

  
Taking matters into his own hands, Raymond slammed both of his fists down onto his desk hard enough to send his pencil flying in an explosion of splinters, getting the attention of the entire room. He then reached forward towards Radicles, grabbing his hair to wrench his head back, the soft curls contrasting with his firm grip as he struggled to escape from it, Raymond bending his head back far, so far, so close to snapping that thick neck of his,  _barely safe,_ then slammed his nose down onto his table, hard.

As Rad tried to recover, Ms. Fink abruptly stood from behind her desk, Mr. Ernesto cowering beside her, and she pointed a sharp finger between the two teens, then towards the door.

  
“You two! Principal's office! **_NOW!_** ”

  
And so they marched, Raymond strutting ahead, Rad holding a hand up to his bloody nose, eyes watering as they glared at the other's back. They took their sweet time getting to the office, neither really looking forward to what was to come. On the way, Rad ended up turning into a nearby bathroom, muttering about needing to wash up. Raymond sighed, but decided to wait for him. Nobody wanted blood on the shiny tiled floors, after all. Especially if Raymond wanted to be able to see his gorgeous reflection in them.

  
Rad stayed in there for quite a while, though, long enough where even Raymond began to worry. Perhaps someone else had already been inside, and didn’t like the idea of a “tranny” sharing the same space? It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Despite his concerns, Raymond stayed outside for another minute longer, but eventually his anxiety—and his conscience—took over.

  
When he walked in, it was to see the other boy stationed in front of the mirror, a wad of bloodied paper towels stashed on top of the sink he was occupying. He was still messing with his face, fingers lightly brushing over his injured nose. He didn’t seem to notice the taller teen approaching, so Raymond chanced a closer look.

  
And, to his surprise, he found upon closer inspection that Radicles was applying makeup. The swelling was still obvious, the skin bruised a mottled blue color, but it looked much better after being coated in the foreign substance. A rich, clearly expensive concealer, to be exact. Raymond snatched the small jar out of the other teen's hand, pretending to read the label as Rad sputtered and flailed.

  
“So, you wear stuff like this, then?” Raymond couldn’t help the teasing lilt to his tone.

  
“Give that back, dude! I look horrible!”

  
“As always.” He turned the container over, holding it up over his head as he analyzed the properties of the cream. “But honestly, now, I thought you'd be the last person to want to put something like this on your face.”

  
“Oh yeah? And why is that?” Rad asked, “Because it's ‘for girls' or something? Because it isn’t! I'm just trying to cover up my nose, which is proably broken, thanks to you.”

  
“Please, as if,” Raymond tossed the makeup back at him without looking, leaving the other to fumble with it. “If anything, I probably wear much more eyeliner in a day than you would even buy in a week. A real man doesn’t care to conform to society's silly rules on what is or isn’t masculine.”

  
Too late, Raymond realized his mistake. Damn his rebellious, traitorous mouth! He tried to play it cool with a flip of his hair, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the look of utter astonishment on Rad's face. He was obviously struggling to process what was just said to him.

  
“Wait…So you mean you’ve seen me as a guy _this whole time?_ ”

  
“Wh—! No, of course not!” He had to think fast, but his mouth was moving before he could hardly finish a thought. “A real man would at least try to stand up for himself, even if the odds are against him! You just let people walk all over you.” He leaned down to press a harsh finger into the other teen's chest. “All you are is a _pussy_.” Then, although it hurt him to say it, he couldn’t keep himself from adding, “It doesn’t help that you have one, either.”

  
Raymond let out an exasperated huff, then looked into the mirror adjacent to Rad's so he could fiddle with his hair. Perhaps he didn’t have to be so... _crude._ But he couldn’t take it back; he said what he said. It was out there. He just didn't want Rad to think he was trying to be nice to him. What if word got out? He would not only lose his reputation, but he himself may even come into question! He couldn’t risk it, especially if it was only to spare feelings.

  
Radicles was silent beside him, his brows furrowed as he looked down towards his feet. He fidgeted with the makeup case for a moment longer before he simply said, “Whatever,” and left the bathroom, his makeover only half-finished.

  
Raymond trailed after him a moment later, after making sure there was some space between them. Not that he much cared about the other teen's feelings, he just didn’t see a need to crowd him after all that. And maybe he felt just a little bit guilty. Maybe.

  
The rest of the walk to the office was spent in silence. When they inevitably arrived, it was to find the room completely empty, nothing but a desk and a few chairs found within. Figuring Mr. Garcia would be coming in soon enough, the boys sat down in their seats, picking the two that were farthest apart.

  
It was a bit nerve-wracking for them both, having to wait for the principal to barge in and give them the stern tongue-lashing they both knew was coming. More than anything, though, it was just awkward. Raymond feigned nonchalance as he leaned back in his seat, but he anxiously fiddled with his cross necklace, his leg bouncing in place to calm his nerves. Radicles, on the other hand, was simply pouting. He occasionally prodded at his nose, smudging the makeup and revealing the bruising flesh underneath. It had stopped bleeding long ago, but judging by the amount of swelling, it wouldn’t heal for at least a week, if not a month. He refused to even look in Raymond's direction.

  
Eventually ten minutes passed by, then twenty, thirty. It went by agonizingly slow. Raymond tapped away at his phone, trying to kill some time by checking his Twitter page. There was really nothing of interest, just some updates on a few webcomics he'd been reading, and a short poem that Puck Reverie, one of his old elementary classmates from back in Washington, had posted.

  
He looked at the clock on his cell, seeing that yet another five minutes had gone by. He began to wonder if Mr. Garcia was even coming in to discipline them. But where could he be? He seemed to spend all his time at the school, so it was unusual for him not to be here. Not that Raymond wanted to be punished, but he was starting to become impatient; he felt as if he would explode into a million pieces if he had to wait any longer. The anticipation was  _killing_ him.

  
Without a word, Raymond stood from his seat, stretching his arms over his head. Rad watched him curiously as the taller teen began to walk out the door.

  
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked. “If you ditch detention, you could get expelled!”

  
“Good. Then maybe I won’t have to see that sorry face of yours around anymore.”

  
Radicles huffed and turned away once again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fine,” muttered Radicles, “I guess I'll just wait here on my own then. You know, like a responsible person.”

  
Raymond let out a  _tsk_  and fiddled with the collar of his sleeveless leather vest, popping up the collar. He expected there to be a bit of a chill once he got outside. He really should have bought a new jacket when he was at the mall.

  
He spared Rad one last glance as he headed towards the exit, taking in his hunched form. The thought of being alone with an angry Mr. Gar was likely the only thing on his mind. And that thought is a scary one. So, Raymond decided to take pity on him. But he had to make it subtle.

  
“Well, while you’re staying here to await punishment from a principal who isn’t even coming, I'm going to be heading to the arcade.” He opened the office door and took a step out, but he paused to lean his head back to look at Rad. He couldn’t make it seem like an invitation, because  _it wasn't._ “And if I see you there, your entire body will be as blue as your nose.”

  
With that, Raymond left the office, then walked down the hall and through the school's exit. He sent his siblings a quick text to let them know where he was, in case they tried to find him when detention was over.

  
As he'd said he would before, he started making his way towards the arcade. He took his time in getting there, but it still didn’t take too long, as it wasn't far from the school. Just enough for his legs to start twitching with exertion as soon as he stopped moving them.

  
Since it was a Sunday, the arcade was particularly busy. It was to be expected, as most parents needed a place to drop off their kids while the adults attended church, and the town was generally safe enough where they felt that the arcade staff could supervise the kids.

 

But, Raymond didn’t much like the idea of dozens of small children running all around him, wiping their boogers all over the machines, screaming at the top of their lungs and choking on too-big wads of gum. He was starting to rethink his decision to come here. So, he walked outside and to the space between the arcade and the neighboring business. He leaned casually on the wall at the side of the building. It was a little dark and damp there, but it was much quieter, the buildings blocking any wind, and he could still see out front fairly easily; all it would take was the tilt of his head.

  
He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it between his lips. It remained unlit as he surveyed his surroundings. There was nobody else in the alley, and the area towards the back-end of it was fenced off with brick, meaning no shady figures would be sneaking up on him, unless they crawled through the sewer pipe poking its way out of the far wall.

  
Candy wrappers littered the ground, likely from any kids or teens who decided to eat some of their arcade earnings back here. A few different stains patterned the walls. The whole place stunk with the rancid stench of stale popcorn, week-old trash, and urine. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to rest, but at least it was solitary.

  
Raymond didn’t plan to stay in the alley for long, perhaps for half an hour at the most. In that time, he checked his phone again, posting a selfie from last week to Twitter. He'd forgotten to post after taking it, which was a shame. He looked incredibly good, his eyeliner on point and his brows on fleek, hair freshly gelled and slicked back, head tilted at the perfect angle. His photo got immediate attention, getting a dozen retweets and twice as many likes in only a few minutes, which made him smirk with satisfaction.

  
That is, until he saw that an account named “RadTranzTuts” had liked it as well.

  
The notification disappeared within seconds of the Boxman receiving it, letting him know that the account had taken back its like, but it was still baffling. The username, as well as the icon (a pair of dark eyes topped with vivid blue brows), made it very obvious that the account belonged to Radicles. Why in the world was he liking Raymond’s tweet?

  
Upon checking Rad's profile, Raymond saw that he was actually a follower. Since he had over two thousand followers on Twitter, he hadn’t been keeping track of them all, so he had no idea how long Rad had been following him. It could havebeen months, for all Raymond knew.

  
He pushed his cigarette to the corner of his mouth with his tongue, contemplating what he should do about this. Not that it was a big issue or anything; Raymond just wanted to know what the deal was.

  
Eventually he decided to just send a quick message. Nothing mean, just something to get the ball rolling:  _"Hey, why are you following me"_

  
He could see that Rad was online, and within seconds, a little note appeared to show that his message had been read. However, after waiting for a few minutes, it became clear that he wasn’t going to be getting a reply. How frustrating!

  
He stalked Rad’s profile for a while, trying to decide whether or not to just block him. It was mostly retweets from various LGBT+ icons and celebrities, a few PSAs, some cat pictures and memes. When Raymond checked his media tab in order to sort out unoriginal content, he saw something unexpected.

  
As it turned out, Rad was a wildly popular makeup tutorial artist. All of his videos had thousands of likes and retweets, and at least a hundred comments each. Raymond didn’t bother watching any, but he could see on the thumbnails that Rad was actually very skilled in a variety of makeup tricks, including intricate face art. It would explain how he was able to cover up his injuries so well, Raymond supposed.

  
With a sigh, Raymond made to put away his phone. But, just then, his phone vibrated. Half-expecting it to be a reply from Rad, he checked the lock screen for notifications to see that it was actually a text from Shannon.

  
_"detinshun ovr, @ chrch n 10"_

 

It took a moment to decipher the text, but after reading it, Raymond pocketed his phone, pulling out his cigarette box to put away his unlit cancer stick. He took the cig out of his mouth and made to put it away, but he dropped it—and the now-flaming box—with an undignified yelp.

 

He looked down at the little flame at his feet as he carefully blew on his lightly-burnt hand, completely and utterly confused as to how his cigarettes caught fire. He hadn’t somehow lit the one that had been in his mouth without thinking, had he? Upon checking his pockets for a lighter, he became somewhat unnerved, as he had no lighter on him. So how did the fire start?

 

Raymond looked around himself warily, wondering if some kid had managed to prank him while he was distracted. He couldn’t see anyone, though, and nothing looked out of place. All was quiet and normal.

 

Looking to the box again, Raymond started to feel a bit nervous. He never much liked fire. Any time he was near a flame, it reminded him of his past issues with fire, the way his blood seemed to boil at the lightest lick of flame. But, maybe worst of all, the acrid smell of smoke brought to mind his reason for moving away from Washington and into Lakewood, Maryland in the first place.

  
He didn’t remember much of it, were he being honest. He knew that something happened when he was eleven years old, something bad. A clothing dryer had malfunctioned during the night, he was taken out of his bed by a fireman and carried through super-heated air and out his window, then down a ladder, down three stories to the ground below, where his neighbors from the apartment complex all waited for him. His foster parents never followed them out.

  
He’d had to be told later, a few days later, that he was going to be moved to a new home in another state. His new family had already decided to let him in. He’d be staying with a friend for a week or two while the last bit of paperwork was filled out, but he didn't have to worry about an interview. He didn’t remember anything about the event itself, though, and had to relive it watching the news the day after.

  
Shaking his head, he left the still-flaming box on the ground, making his way towards the old church. He was ready to get out of that alley, and away from those thoughts he was having. They always left him feeling drained and disoriented. He was looking forward to hanging out with his siblings again, though. They always knew how to get his mind off things.

 

* * *

 

Raymond came upon the church, eventually, to find the area fenced off with an exaggerated amount of police tape. The investigation relating to the discovered body from the news was still ongoing, and the citizens of Lakewood were meant to stay away until it was solved. The burial site could be seen from the sidewalk, the edge of a deep hole barely visible from behind the building. Somewhat wary, Raymond looked around to see if anyone was nearby, then lifted the tape so he could go inside.

  
The old church that lay just within the confines of the small town was run-down and blackened. The remaining walls had chalky flakes falling off at all hours of the day, leaving the ground ashy and dark until a strong enough wind blew. The roof was full of holes, and rubble littered the floor where the cracked supports could no longer hold it up. The once-grand organ was coated in a thin layer of dust that puffed around the building whenever the doors opened or closed, playing hushed tones through the rusty pipes. The colored glass in the windows were cracked and dull, the art that was once majestic and loving now looking sullen and cold. A variety of plant life peeked out of the ground and slithered up the damaged walls.

  
The church was surely beautiful at one point in time, but it now lay in ruins. The fire from ten years ago left it barely standing. The only reason it hadn’t been fully demolished was due to the overwhelming faith the members of Lakewood held within them. The idea of tearing down God’s house, no matter how damaged it was, seemed wrong at best, and downright sacrilegious at worst.

  
It didn’t take long for Raymond to find his brother and sister, who were sitting atop one of the charred pews, smoking some weed. Upon his arrival, they jumped up, putting out their makeshift joints, and pelted him with questions.

  
“Where have you been?”

  
“What took you so long?”

  
“Do you know how freaky it is to be here by ourselves? Somebody  _died_ here!”

  
“How did you get out of Gar's office so early, anyway?”

  
Raymond quickly grew fed-up with the interrogations, his patience growing thin. They were overreacting.

  
“Garcia never even showed up,” he replied. “And I texted you. I went to the arcade.”

  
“Yeah, well, it still shouldn’t have taken so long for you to get here! This place gives me the creeps.” Shannon shuddered, her pink hair vibrating with the force of it.

 

" _Please._ We've been hanging out here for years. You’re only scared because they recovered a body nearby. Who's been here since the beginning, mind you.”

 

Shannon and Darrell both squealed and shoved at their brother, yelling out, “Don’t remind us!”

  
They bickered for a while longer, Raymond teasing his siblings about ghosts and evil spirits coming to haunt them. Darrell looked about ready to leave, while Shannon pretended not to be too afraid. It made Raymond wonder why she had wanted to come back to the old church if she was so scared. She probably thought it would impress them.

  
After a moment of more screeching, all three Boxman teens went quiet. Now that things were calm, they started to feel like something was off. The sun had yet to set, but the church still seemed just a little bit darker than when they first arrived. The air seemed to suddenly chill, leaving their bones feeling like ice. The pipes of the organ started to chime lowly, despite there not being a noticeable breeze. The very walls seemed to rattle, and the call of a distant crow could be heard.

  
In all the times they'd hung out here, the church had never felt so foreboding. It was always thrilling, something forbidden and taboo, something they could all whisper about later in secret. But it was never like this. The three siblings huddled closer together, starting to feel uneasy. Things just didn’t seem quite right.

  
Then, all of a sudden, a strong gust of wind blew, pushing the doors so far open that they slammed into the walls. One fell right off its squeaky hinges, falling to the floor with a thundering clatter. The trespassing teenagers all screamed, scrambling towards the farthest end of the church. They wanted as far away from those doors as possible. Their hearts beat twice as fast, frightened eyes wide as they wailed loudly, hoping whatever just came in would  _go away._

  
Their cries were met with laughter, laughter that seemed awfully familiar somehow. Three voices met their ears, all cackling in sadistic glee.

  
By the time Raymond realized what was going on, panic had already taken over his mind, the rush of adrenaline leaving him shaking and flighty. He could hardly move, but anger scorched through him nonetheless.

  
Red's laughter began to die off as she lowered her leg from where she'd kicked down the heavy metal door. Her two lackeys, Drupe and Gregg, continued to snicker at the victims of their prank.

  
“You should seriously see the looks on your faces!” Drupe could hardly breathe, mascara running down her cheeks as she fanned herself off. “I'm literally gonna die. Y'all are gonna make me laugh to death. I can’t believe this.”

  
Red walked inside the church, her prosthetic leg thudding loudly as she stepped on the downed door. She looked to the Boxmans, who all were now red and seething with rage.

  
“And here I thought the priest's kids might have actually been sorta cool,” she said with a flip of her hair, “but it looks like you’re just a group of superstitious, gullible, childish dweebs.”

  
" _We're_ childish?” Shannon stomped up to the other three teens, trying her best to look as intimidating as she usually does. “We aren’t the ones playing tricks on people who aren’t expecting it!”

  
“Hey, relax, dude. It was just a joke,” replied Red with a shrug. Gregg grinned, nodding his head in agreement.

  
“Well, your ‘joke' scared us half to death!” Darrell argued, “And we're in a church! Have some respect! A kid  _died_  here!”

  
“For one thing, it wasn’t a kid,” Drupe supplied as she dabbed at the mess on her face. “It was just some lady.”

  
“Second,” said Red, “You guys were trespassing first. We just came to hang out, but you were here rolling joints and getting high. We could smell it from outside.”

  
“As if you don’t have the biggest stoner ever with you,” Shannon said, pointing an accusatory finger towards Drupe, who immediately took offense.

  
“Hey, I just sell the stuff! I don’t, like, use any of it. It'd be a waste of profits or something.”

  
“More like  _you’re_  a waste of profits,” said Shannon with a devilish smirk. “You don’t think every student in the whole school knows what you do between classes?” When the other girl scoffed, about to reply, she continued, “I guess you already realized they did, though. You did sleep with half of them.”

  
“Hey, that’s enough.” Red stepped in, towering over Shannon as she got right up to her face. “Nobody talks to my friends like that.”

  
“And here I thought you were too cool for friends!” Shannon took one step closer, and Raymond had a bad feeling about where things were heading. “Besides, it's not like you have room to talk. You’re always too busy being a slutty dyke.”

  
Red instantly was on her, hands outstretched as she let out a roar. Raymond and Darrell pulled Shannon away from her, hoping to diffuse the situation. Shannon was known for bringing her blades wherever she went, and she was not afraid to use them. She has in the past, and her precision was dangerous, borderline deadly.

  
Red, though, possibly had an even worse reputation. After she came out last year as a lesbian, a group of people had ganged up on her, beating her so badly she almost died. She had even suffered a severe injury that required her leg to be amputated. She was stuck in bed for a few months, then spent so long in recovery that she missed the whole year of school, so she had to be held back. Ever since then, she worked out and started to bulk up, her muscles larger than those of most of the men in Lakewood. She was strong.

 

She was also armed. And what she carried was worse than a tiny switchblade.

  
“How about we all take it easy,” Raymond suggested as he and Darrell pulled their sister farther away, wanting to de-escalate the situation before it could get worse. “We can all just hang out for a while, smoke some good grass, and—”

  
But Shannon was not having any of it. She broke free from her brothers' grasps and, as predicted, lunging at the other girl with her knife drawn. Red was quick to retaliate, unsheathing her machete from the sleeve on her back.

  
Chaos ensued.

  
Drupe jumped on Darrell, pummeling him with everything she had. She was small, but she had a mean sucker punch and a killer choke-hold. Darrell scrambled to loosen her grip, sputtering as he fought to breathe.

  
Just as he managed to throw her off, Raymond was taken by surprise due to a searing pain in his arm. He shuffled back to see a small hole in his arm, blood already welling up from inside the wound.

  
He looked up to see Gregg with a pen in his hand, a bead of red gathered at the tip of it. He wasted no time in getting close again, arm raised high over his head. Raymond caught it easily, but the smaller boy held a pair of safety scissors in his other hand, and he stabbed twice into Raymond's chest with stunning agility, causing him to let go. Raymond quickly looked down at himself, relieved to find that the wounds were shallow, and that no real damage was done. But Gregg was on him again instantly, and Raymond barely had time to move into a defensive position before he suffered another stab wound, this time in his left shoulder.

 

Dead to the world outside of this fight, Raymond ignored the pain and rushed in, lifting Gregg far over his head. He threw the other teen like he would a football on game night, and Gregg landed harshly onto a pile of rubble. Realizing he was outmatched, Gregg rushed to his feet and out of the church, screeching wildly. He was going to be very sore tomorrow.

  
Remembering that his siblings were still in trouble, Raymond looked around frantically until he saw Darrell, who had Drupe on her stomach, pinning her to the ground so she could no longer fight. He seemed to be pretty beat up, bruises littering his face and the area around his neck, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

  
That just left Shannon, who was still exchanging blows with Red. She had some surprisingly minor cuts along her arms, while Red seemed to be completely uninjured. Her machete lay strewn across the floor, out of reach, but she was still holding her own, avoiding the arcs and slashes of Shannon's blade. She occasionally landed a punch to Shannon’s stomach or jaw, which always left her wide open for another hit.

  
Raymond could sense something was about to make this a whole lot worse. Blood pounded in his ears, time moving in slow-motion as he watched Red land a solid hit to Shannon's throat, choking her and knocking her back. Raymond started to run, wanting to stop their fight, but everything seemed so heavy, his legs feeling like lead pushing through water as he tried to reach them.

  
Red straddled the other girl, one hand on her neck, the other reaching for the machete that now lay just under an arm's length away. She firmly grasped it as Shannon tried to recover. The blade was lifted higher, higher, Red's eyes wild and unseeing, and Raymond was too far away to stop her. Darrel and Drupe both screamed as it came down. And all Raymond could do was watch.

  
Blood spattered the ground around them, painting a gruesome picture for all to see. Raymond froze mid-step, his brain unable to process what he'd just had to see. He couldn’t comprehend just how  _bad_ this was, how  _horrid,_ how  _incredibly wrong._

  
There his sister lay, on the cold, bloody ground, gasping for air that could barely reach her lungs.

  
And there, just beside her, lay Red, face-down in a pool of her own life. She was completely still, unmoving as the puddle grew larger around her head.

  
Shannon slowly sat up, trembling violently, everyone's breath held in their throats. Nobody made a sound.

  
With unsteady hands, Shannon rolled the other girl over onto her back, immediately backing away at what she saw. She promptly threw up, falling over with the force of her stomach rebelling against her.

  
In a puddle of red more vibrant than her hair, Red lay still, her left eye sliced open, nearly in half. Her other eye was wide, wide open, leaking tears that soundlessly dripped down her cheek.

  
Eventually, the silence was broken, as Red let out a horrible, horrible scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She isn't dead, guys
> 
> Oh! I started making a music playlist for this fic! Some of the songs fit lyrically, and others just have...some sort of aesthetic that I feel fits the story. I also threw in a happy song or two, for a bit of a breather, haha.
> 
> I also take requests for songs to put on the playlist! I can’t 100% guarantee I'll put it in, but if you tell me why you think it'd fit in (be it for a character, or the story as a whole) then I probably will.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEfuISs-Xl5E_EhMPCGNMFhs9fj9will.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I know KO's situation may be confusing, so here's a quick non-spoilery explanation:
> 
> Carol wasn't able to take car of him financially, so she had put him up for adoption. Enid's parents adopted him, and fortunately, they also live in Lakewood! Therefore, Carol is still a large part of his life (she's mommy, Wilhemena is momma, and Bernard is daddy). He's technically homeschooled, but he does all of his learning at the dojo, where he is taught by Carol on after her shift at the school ends. He spends his breaks at the bodega as an intern, of sorts.
> 
> If you ever want to find me, I sometimes post art on my Tumblr (@littlejowo) or on my Twitter (@RadicalBotBoy)! You guys can message me ansorts!
> 
> If there is ever anything you'd like to see in this story, just let me know! This can include putting a background character in the spotlight for a while, inserting another ship, or even adding a whole scene(which could even have its own chapter, depending on what it is)! If your idea somehow doesn't fit in with the plot, I may write a one-shot just for you! It may take a while to get done, but I am always open for new things to write!
> 
> Edit: Some people irl were sad, so I made an AU for my AU: https://mobile.twitter.com/LittleJnvn/status/998441170454827008


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